


Bad Timing

by Patchoo



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Ear play, Frottage, Humilliation Kink, M/M, Tetora having a voyeurism kink, Voyeurism, edited tags bc i forgot about some, handjobs, nasties happen, yeah can i get uhhhhhhhhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 16:00:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10767606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patchoo/pseuds/Patchoo
Summary: There's things you don't want to see, things you dont need to see, and things that you didn't know you really craved to see.





	Bad Timing

**Author's Note:**

> This is dama's and taylor's fault. That group chat is Cursed. enjoy tetora being a friggin voyeur

His timing couldn’t be worse.

 

Taichou had asked Tetora to meet him in the dojo after class—for practice purposes— he thought. He needed to get stronger, to become a real man if he wanted to be the next president of the martial arts club. Though, it’s not like he wouldn’t have gone wherever Taichou asked him to go, regardless of the reason why. And so, he accepted.

 

Tetora did as he was told; he waved his classmates goodbye, got out of class, and headed directly for the dojo, not even bothering to change into his kimono. He could do that there anyway, it’d be rude to keep Taichou waiting for him. The sky was still blue, but it was starting to fade into redder, warmer shades, announcing the growth of dawn dwindling over the horizon.

 

Tetora began running. He ran downstairs and across the campus nonstop until he got to the dojo’s doors, waiting up a minute to regain his breath. And as he straightened up to burst the doors open, and took in a deep breath to call out over his entrance, he heard something. Just a little something (a groan?) that caught his attention briefly and he decided to wait a second, just to see if he could fully register what that was. The sound repeated itself again, and Tetora’s stopped short.

 

He knew that sound. He knew it good enough to be embarrassing. But he couldn’t be right about himself. Not then, not _here_ of all places. There was no way he could be right about this one. Yet when the sound came up again, leaking through the tiny open crack on the doors, Tetora has to doubt himself.

 

He shouldn’t, he knows damn well he shouldn’t, but he can’t help but feel his heart race when he takes a tentative step forwards, unsure hands gripping shakily over the knob on f the left door. He shouldn’t, but the sound comes out again, and he’s so close that it there’s no way he could be wrong. _He shouldn’t_ , but his curiosity and the stammering of his heart compels him to, and so, Tetora takes a breath to steady himself, and rather reluctantly, he takes a peek inside.

 

There are only so many things Tetora could have guessed were happening in there, and of course, Kuro is in there. But it’s not his Taichou who makes his skin prickle and his face feel like it’s caught on fire, it’s who Kuro is with.

 

Groans and pants bubble past Chiaki’s mouth. He’s on the ground, rather; he’s _straddling_ Kuro, who actually is on the ground, as he runs his left all over Kuro’s torso, the other one disappearing into the gap between their legs. He leans down, attacking the exposed area of Kuro’s neck. They’re both in various stages of nudity, though they both still have their pants on.

 

Kuro moans and Tetora grips the doorknob tighter, he shakes his head incredulously, unblinking, and he tries to convince himself his eyes are depicting him. He tries to look away and just hit the road, he really does, but Chiaki— _his Leader—_ he realizes, rolls his hips down in what seems to be a painfully slow motion, and the moan that ripples through Kuro’s hanging mouth, spiraling directly down Tetora’s stomach and past his navel leaves him hot with desperation and with his eyes glued to the scene displaying before him.

 

Tetora gulps down forcefully, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. He finds himself growing more and more uneasy (and uncomfortably tight in his pants) as seconds pass, Kuro’s moans are rather needy, whimpering as Chiaki maneuvers over him. Mouthing at his collarbones and relentlessly rutting their hips together, Tetora drinks in their ragged breathing and he catches his own growing as forced as theirs.

 

He can hear Taichou pant Leader’s-- _Morisawa’s_ name hoarsely over and over again, and he sees Kuro’s large hands grope helplessly at his back, nails raking down his sides, tearing a whine out of Chiaki’s mouth. It comes out like he was trying to say ‘No’, but it drawls out into a moan, long enough that Tetora, with that wild imagination of his, could mistake it into Chiaki moaning out his name.

 

It flashes through Tetora’s mind without his allowance, how would it feel to be amidst their mess, maybe Taichou’s hands holding him in place as he kisses and licks and _bites_ to the back of his neck and Leader just, rutting his hips like that against him, kissing and mouthing over his jaw, growing hotter and hotter until he—until he—Fuck.  
  


Tetora rubs his thighs together, and bites down a moan, trying to get any kind of relief as he scrunches his eyes shut. His head falls forward and he pants, he shakes his head in earnest this time, and he moves as if he were to take a step back, but refrains from fully doing so. He feels too hot and too filthy from just standing there and- and _watching_ his senpai doing things that he knows shouldn’t be done in such a god forsaken public space but… God.  
  


Tetora sneaks another glance in, and Chiaki is still all over Kuro, their movements are fierce yet restrained, their breathing is too ragged and their mingling grunts and gasps grow faster, their names fall out from each other’s mouths and Tetora is faintly envious for wishing his own could be thrown in there too. They grow louder too, and Tetora is so engrossed in how enthralling his Taichou looks getting mildly wrecked, he fails to suppress a high-pitched whine right when Kuro stills, drawling out Chiaki’s name in his bliss. Chiaki, however, seems to notice the sound, as shock flashes in his features and he turns in the dojo’s entrance direction a second before he’s coming too, doubling over Kuro as he bites down in his lips hard.

 

Tetora’s breath hitches, and he stumbles away from the door in panic and sprints down the path to the nearest bathroom.  He feels nauseous as he pushes the door open, holding onto the far last of the row sinks. He couldn’t have seen him, right? He didn’t turn in time. But, god, what if he did? What if Leader did see him? What if they come searching him down? Jesus, he would be able to show his face in Ryuseitai again. Or to Taichou. Fuck, _fuck—_  
  


‘‘Tetsu?’’

  
Tetora startles, yelping before he turns. Hinata stands by the door, head tilted slightly. ‘‘What are you doing here?’’ He asks meekly. Tetora holds onto his chest and wheezes quietly.

 

‘‘A-aha! Hinata-kun!” He hammers. He frowns before clearing his throat. ‘‘You scared me, hm! I came here to…’’

 

Tetora looks around for an answer to give, but realizes where they are a bit too late. ‘‘Uh… piss?’’

 

Hinata gives him the ‘no shit’ face before waddling closer, moving to wash his hands in the sink next to Tetora. He leans against the wall and crosses his legs and hooks his arms in his jacket’s pockets. He feels too giddy and he sends a prayer that Hinata won’t notice his embarrassingly painful boner right now.

 

‘‘Anyway! What are _you_ doing here? Weren’t you heading home too?’’  
  


‘‘Ah,’’ Hinata shakes the water off his hands and wipes them absentmindedly in his pants. He looks at Tetora over his shoulder.  
  


‘‘I caught you spying on Morisawa-senpai and Kuro-senpai doing things, so I came looking for you.’’  
  


 

That’s when blood runs cold.

   
  


Tetora feels his stomach fall to his feet and his heart shrink into itself as Hinata gives him a knowing smile. And his perspective of knowing turns into blankly _smug_ when he repeats the intonation of ‘things’ in his head. Tetora blinks, mouth agape. He doesn’t know what to say, because he knows he can’t lie so bluntly in Hinata’s face at this point. So he just stares, accepting his fate and internally agreeing to whatever Hinata will do to land his last blow, maybe he’ll kill him before embarrassment does it for him.

 

‘‘Do you mind me helping you with this, Tetsu?’’

  
Tetora makes a choked sound with the back of his throat when Hinata runs a single finger over the fly of his pants. Then he looms closer, breathing hotly near his neck. ‘‘I didn’t know you were into voyeurism, Tetsu’’  
  
  
Tetora balls his hands into fists inside his pockets. ‘‘You should be ashamed, that’s really creepy, you know?’’ Hinata whispers into his ear palming him through his pants and Tetora has to _whine_ because, shit. He bucks lightly onto Hinata’s hand, searching for more friction. ‘‘If you want me to help you with this, undo your pants yourself.’’  
  
  
Then the pressure is gone. Tetora complains at the lack of touch but a look at Hinata makes him want to choke in thin air. Hinata looks at him rather innocently, but expectantly so. And he feels humiliated when his hands twitch out of his pockets, and begrudgingly flicker his belt undone, then unzip his pants open. He’s shaking, and god does he want to get off in this instant.  
  


Hinata spares him a pleased look before pulling down his briefs with a finger. Tetora hisses when his dick springs free, thighs twitching.  
  
  
‘‘Good boy, Tetsu! Now lick my hand.’’  
  
  
Tetora stares blankly at the palm of Hinata’s hand in front of him. He complies, but not before shooting him a look. ‘‘You surely watch a fair amount of porn, Hinata-kun,’’  
  


‘‘I learned from the best,’’ He sing-songs happily as he gets a grasp for Tetora’s dick. Tetora hisses through his teeth and bucks his hips into the touch. Hinata’s free hand falls on his hip to prevent from moving.  
  
  
‘‘I didn’t know Yuuta-kun did—A-ah!’’ Hinata massages the tip of Tetora’s cock, spreading precum around before ducking his hand down his length, giving it a few pumps.  
  


‘‘We all do, Tetsu. Now this’ll be quick okay? Just be nice and say, you were thinking about joining them, yes?’’  
  
  
He twists his hand with experience, maybe this is something he does to himself, and Tetora flinches as Hinata returns to whisper wickedly to his ear.  


‘‘You wanted them to fuck you so bad?’’-  


‘‘Ah…I—I’’  


‘‘You wanted Morisawa-senpai to moan your name too?’’  
  
  
He quickens his pace, and Tetora was just so worked up from before that he knows he won’t last long. He moans lewdly, too loud, and Hinata’s free hand flies from his waist to his clasp at his mouth.  
  


‘‘Don’t be so loud, they’ll find us this way… Unless that is what you want?’’  
  
  
Tetora moans again, shutting his eyes. Tears prickle at the back of his lids but this feels so good, so good he wants more.  
  
  
‘‘You want Taichou-sama to see you like this don’t you? You want him to see how hard you got from spying on them like a creep?’’  
  
  
  
Tetora holds onto Hinata’s jacket, biting onto his lips. Close, close.

 

‘‘You want Taichou-sama to fuck you and moan your name too, or am I wrong…’’  
  


Hinata inches closer to Tetora, biting and sucking lightly his earlobe, his lips tease the shell of his ear. Tetora feels himself unwinding.  
  
  
‘‘ _…Tetsu?_ ’’

  
With a choked sob Tetora comes into Hinata’s hand. His knees give out slightly but he regains his composure even through his orgasm. Hinata keeps pumping him through it, until Tetora’s breath evens and his cock turns flaccid. He plants a kiss to Tetora’s cheek before retreating, washing his hands again.  
  
  
Tetora slumps forward as he tucks himself into his pants again. Holding himself up by grasping onto the sink. He startles when cold sprinkles of water hit his cheek. Hinata smiles at him, wiping his hands in his own pants again.  
  
  
‘‘Let’s take you home Tetsu, I won’t tell anyone of this if you don’t either!’’ He winks playfully, and Tetora shifts to hold onto Hinata then. He feels tired, and wasted, and humiliated. Thoroughly fucked to say the least. But at least he has Hinata to take care of him after this riot, and a lot of things to think about when he gets home later that afternoon.  
  
  
After all, neither Kuro nor Chiaki caught him staring, right?


End file.
